


Silly Capes

by dissocitopia



Category: The Legend of Dragoon
Genre: Lime, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 03:36:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6178729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dissocitopia/pseuds/dissocitopia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Albert takes great pride in his cape, regardless of contradictions and social interactions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a silly little drabble I wrote years ago that's been taking up space in my writing folder since. Figured, with a little bit of revision and editing, it was trash enough for public view.

“What's up with your **_silly cape_**?”

It was the question you've been dying to ask for months; if not months, then since the moment you met the King. What you meant to say was, “What's the significance of your cape?” rather than sound like you were scrutinizing your romantic partner for his emerald accessory. Calling the man's preferred style “silly”? What were you thinking?

Albert's excruciatingly slow turn to face you peaked your nervousness. Oh Soa, you weren't ready for this. You should've let it be; you should've lived your life in question, forever wondering why this scholarly royal decided to bear this cape as his primary choice of expressing his individuality. Now, with the expression of a kicked puppy situated on his smooth features, you were already on your way to guilt, frustration, and a lifetime of regret.

“Silly?” he repeated, a pained glimmer shimmering in his painite eyes. You bit your lip. “My cape is silly...?”

_'Oh, here we go.'_

“Your Majesty, I didn't mean to say it's silly,” you lied. Truly, you did think it was a silly piece of neck-wear. You always thought that way; it reminded you of the times you'd tie a blanket around your neck and pretend you were a superhero of sorts. So really, you deemed capes as childish, immature, and unimaginably, blissfully nostalgic. 

“(Name), this cape is a symbol of my authority,” he enlightened you, brushing off the cape's collar resting comfortably on his broad shoulder-line. “It used to be my father's. He then passed it down to me, knowing I'd show my pride in my bloodline.”

You couldn't quite piece his logic together. It was true that only people of royalty or some form of nobility wore a cape in Serdio, and everywhere else appeared to hold similar traditions. You recalled hearing him attempt to convince a lady he wasn't the King Albert she had painted a portrait for only weeks prior, and even _she_ pointed out the major con of wearing the long fabric. You also remembered the pain behind a cracked rib as you laughed the moment she presented the King with the painting. 

“Aren't you trying to hide your identity...?” you blabbed, the thought meant more for yourself rather than for him. “I hate to break it to you but it's a dead giveaway, Al.”

Albert deadpanned, his face bearing not that look of curiosity, nor that look of being stumped over an equation of sorts. In fact, that was the first time you caught the rare look of blank defeat cross over him. His proper posture slumped as he revelled in the flaw of his thinking, and if that hadn't already kicked you in the gut he returned to his spot on the loveseat and rested his chin on his hands.

Remorse washed over you like a midsummer's storm, dousing you in guilt and rattling you with apology. The pathos drove you to move before him, catching his attention by embracing his head into your gut. Really, it'd be odd to see your partner without his cape. It's become a regular part of him, and to remove it would be like ripping the wings off an innocent dragonfly.

Stroking the soft mane on his head, you sigh out, "I would be genuinely concerned if you weren't cloaked by your cape, my lord."

He stirred at your statement, looking up so his rose-tinted face peered at you with that familiar, comforting shine of wonder in his eyes. His arms sheepishly find their way around your waist, pulling you closer. "Would you really be worried?"

Smiling at him, you nodded your confirmation and pressed your lips against his forehead. He hummed, satisfied by your affections. You kissed the bridge of his nose, and he wrinkled his sniffer with a groan; it was the only spot on his face you could kiss to get such a cute, disgruntled expression on account of the point being ticklish. Then, you planted a chaste-yet-sweet kiss on his lips, to which he gladly returned.

A devilish thought crossed over your mind, and the temptation to refuse conforming with it was merely a flickering candle in the wildfire of the desire. Smirking mischievously down at the King, you murmured, "Now, how about you show me just how much authority your cape really symbolises?" 

You were a little more than shocked at how eagerly the King lifted you up, rushed you to his bed in the cabin, locked the door to ensure maximum privacy is at hand, and joined you to give you a shameless history lesson on his cape's significance.


	2. Extended Ending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dart listens in on a little history lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the trash.

It was late; no one had seen Albert or you during dinner or, well... since they boarded the Queen Fury. And now that the sun was half-way done its mission to hide behind the horizon and you two were still nowhere to be found, Dart rounded everyone up to find the absent couple. 

Dart had looked in the kitchen, on the bow, on the crow's nest-- where Rose was "searching" from above-- in the engine room... everywhere he thought Albert would go to learn something new. And, if you weren't with Albert you were in the kitchen trying to taste test the food or you were having some philosophical conversation with Rose, who had no recollection of seeing you or the King since boarding just like everyone else.

Climbing down the ladder from the crow's nest, Dart's head snaps around to the sound of hearty laughter below to his right. Instantly recognising the lively "Oh, ho, ho" as Haschel, Dart intercepted the fury-fisted martial arts master.

"Have you found them?" the mercenary inquired, smiling with confusion at his elder's amusement.

The latter wiped a tear from his eye and beamed with a seemingly evil glint in his dark eyes. "I have, my boy," he sighed contently. "His Majesty is giving a lecture to poor (Name) down in the cabin." 

So, why was Haschel laughing so much? Dart's eyebrows furrowed in question, his smile never leaving his youthful face, as he began to make his way to the cabin he was to share with Albert and Haschel. Something about Haschel's reaction frightened Dart, hemorrhaging the red warrior's curiosity almost severely enough to pretend he never ran into Haschel in the first place.

With a couple twists and turns around the ship's tunnels and impressive architecture, he finally reached the hallway approaching the cabin when he stopped dead in his tracks. He could hear creaking, euphoric yelling muffled by the dense walls, and Albert's voice rugged as though he was running a marathon and giving a speech simultaneously. 

Dart's initial instinct was to turn around and avoid the cabin for as long as the boat was able to float, but he found the discovery magnetic, hypnotising, and he couldn't stop himself from listening in right at the door.

"My great-great-great-great-great grandfather's successor was granted his crown, and consummated plenty of marriages in this cape, and he conceived many more children with more women than he had wives," he could hear Albert grunt, pausing to pant for a second before returning to groaning, his beloved's voice so airy and... _desperate_ for something. 

"Tell me more," you begged, your words growing louder and more strained with each passing second. "Tell me more!"

"My great-great-great-great-great grandfather," he paused to give out a lengthy groan harmonised by his dearest love. "He... he would wrap this cape around his wife after making love to her. Mind you, he often stained it with the blood of his enemies, but it was his symbol of protection, and she was his darling."

_'Are they **really** using history and **his old cape** as...'_

Running his leather-clad hands through his unkempt hair, he turned on his heel and left. So, he found them. Well, Haschel has found them. Now they could call off the search, and Dart would try his hardest to erase this memory from his head.

As long as Meru didn't know about this, he would never have to think about it for the rest of his days.


End file.
